A WAGER
by Stats
I was standing in front of the urinal of the washroom where I work,
daydreaming. I was totally absorbed by the experience I had the day
before where I wore a complete set of women's underclothes under my
business suit. No one suspected a thing. Thought that the next time
I did this I would wear some padding in my bra. Perhaps try to pull
it off with no socks, the pants were long enough to cover my ankles
if I was careful. Even my secretary-with her eye for detail didn't
suspect a thing.
"Do you really want to see how far you can go without them knowing?"
a deep authoritative voice from behind me said. I must have damn near
jumped three inches; spraying the urinal and surrounding area like a
blind mountain lion marking his territory. No one was in the washroom
when I came in and I certainly didn't hear anyone enter. My stream had
come to an abrupt halt as if I was caught in the middle of something
embarrassing. I spun around trying to gather my thoughts and doing up
my fly in nanoseconds. "What did you say?" I gasped.
"You were reminiscing," said the stranger "about your charade yesterday.
I asked you if you really wanted to see how feminine you could get
without your workers noticing." The stranger looked like he just
stepped out of an Arabian genie scene except for the small detail that
he was dressed in a very fashionable business suit. He had a knowing
grin on his meticulously bearded face.
"How could he read my thoughts?" began to flash through my mind. He
interrupted me in the middle of my question with "because it is second
nature to me to read what other people are thinking"
He continued, "I was born with this among other powers. I was able to
give myself eternal life, an ability to fade in and out of the reality
you know as your world at any place that interests me, change items to
fit my whim, and last but not least, tell a good joke. The only problem
is I grow bored and am always looking for some new situation that would
brighten up my day, year, millenium, whatever... "
"How feminine could I get without my work associates noticing"
reverberated in my mind. It was an interesting thought. "I had
thoroughly enjoyed the feel of feminine clothes on my body, and loved
the little adventure of occasionally wearing female undergarments to work,
secretly wishing I had a more female body. But there were certainly women
things that I could never think of doing. Making love to another man,
yuck! Having and rearing children, ugh! Involving myself with all those
female type things, shopping for the sake of shopping, following senseless
fashions, getting ever so involved with female small talk that doesn't..."
"Look", the stranger interrupted, "I have a wager that will amuse me and
give you exactly what you want. Only condition is that once we part you
will not be aware of me, only of the wager. Have to preserve my element
of surprise-can't have you blabbing around the coffee room that there is a
genie loose on the premises. Here is the scoop. I will feminize you each
time you urinate. Each time before you take a leak you have a choice. If
you think of something to make you more feminine we will play that theme,
if not, you will get the feminization change that I think up for you. So
that you are aware what had been done to you after you are finished doing
your thing, I will leave a little message for you in your thoughts. Anytime
you say to yourself before urinating, 'Not tonight dear, I have a headache'
no change will take place. At the end of the month you will be left in
whatever state that you have arrived at.....unless.....you decide for one
of two big prizes. I pay you $100,000 and you get the body you see in the
mirror"
My eyes rushed to the washroom mirror. There was a reflection of a
strangely familiar face, my face, but subtly changed to one of the most
alluring females I had ever seen in my life. It was so stunning that it
was quite a time before I became aware of the eye entrapping cleavage and
narrow waist and hips to kill for. As I returned to the face a small come
hither smile appeared on the reflection.
"I was tempted to make it a million dollars, but I wanted to give you just
enough to resettle in your new life without unduly influencing your final
decision. And your second prize, if you so choose, is the reflection before
your eyes."
What I saw now was my normal self. There were a few small enhancements
that made me as handsome as any movie star. There was no doubt my sex life
would be greatly enhanced by either choice.
"However, the makeup job is going to cost you $20,000. I know, I know.
You don't have nearly that amount available right now but I have done a
quick credit check and see that you currently could raise that amount
easily with a couple of phone calls. Try your bachelor boss. "
The last remark should have sounded some bells in my accountant-trained
mind but all I could focus on was the details of the wager. "When do I
have to make up my mind?" I asked amid the daze of the explosion of
alternatives I had just been presented.
"No hurry, I expect someone will need to use the restroom sometime this
afternoon. You have until someone comes in to either think 'I accept your
offer, stranger' in which case the bet is on, or, 'Go to hell, stranger' in
which case this conversation never took place. Come to think of it, this
conversation never took place in any event."
No sooner had I digested this contract than I heard a key enter the
washroom door lock. "I instinctively thought "I accept your offer,
stranger" as my boss appeared in the doorway.
Desperately trying to appear composed I commented that someone must have
had his pisser turned to spray to make such a mess of the area. He looks
at the urinal and comments that whoever did it must have had a hard time
controlling his member when the earthquake hit. With a "rank has its
privileges" he steps up to the clean urinal leaving me to carefully
straddle the puddle on the floor.
I managed to finish my job without further interruption when the following
message flashed across my mind.
Your waist is too fat and your hips are too slender
Let me take from the first and give you a fender.
I suddenly realized that I had urinated without any advance thought and
the first of my feminization steps had been the default. I tried to think
about where the bazaar wager had come from, had no clue but was totally
aware of all the conditions leading up to the final wager was to take
place in only 10 days, the end of the month.
"See me in my office when you have a moment, Sam. I want your advice on
the Preston report we are about to let loose on our unsuspecting client"
my boss said as he wiped his hand on the absurdly small paper towel
extracted from the wall unit. All I could think about was how it would
compare to my new slender waist.
I waited for the door to close and leaped into a stall. My pants felt
so loose around my waist that I was afraid they were going to drop right
in front of my boss. I closed the door, dropped my pants and underpants
in one quick gesture. Looked down at naked torso. I imagined my hips
were somewhat broader but I couldn't see my backside. My guess was my
waist was a good six inches smaller than my normal 34 inches.
That evening, when I got home I was in front of the mirror before I heard
the front door slam shut. I had sneaked back to my office and hid all
afternoon. Shit, my boss wanted to see me about the Preston report. All
I could think about was the wager. Try as I might, no revelations
occurred to me about the origin but the conditions were branded into my
memory. I went to the john to take a crap and inadvertently started to
pee. Too late again.
From your chest, legs and arms without any pain
Hair was removed and added to your mane.
I quickly moved to the bathroom mirror. My hair, which was just covering
my shirt collar before, was now a good three inches longer. Also, not
since I was thirteen had I seen my chest so devoid of hair. A quick scan
on my legs and arms told me that the hair there was not only very scarce
but it was much finer, a truly feminine amount of body hair.
The first thing I did was get a tape measure and measure all parts of my
body. My waist was indeed now 27 inches and I had a 37 inch bum. My flat
as a pancake chest was 34 inches.
I resolved that the next alteration would be to give me a bust from, I
decided, my thick calves. So first thing when I woke up the next morning
was to think through the alterations. Each calf reduced to 14 inches giving
me a one and one half inch bust. Nothing to brag to the beauty pageant
about but really quite spectacular for me. As a bonus my nipples had become
distinctly female and were quite a turn on to erect with a pinch. My
areolas were now quite dark and now measured one and one half inches across.
No verse flashed through my mind to tell me what had happened. Pity,
enjoyed the way the unknown was revealed to me.
The next day was uneventful although my boss was rather caustic about my
lack of concern about the Preston Client. I couldn't believe no one
mentioned anything about my hair which I now tied back in a pony tail.
It was Friday the twenty third and I decided that I needed the weekend
to get a plan together. The end of the month was a week tomorrow, a
Saturday. I needed to be sure that I had the $20,000 to make me into the
model hunk at month end. I had to use the "Not tonight dear, I have a
headache" routine twice that day to make sure no further surprise changes
took place.
That night I dressed in my finest female outfit to get the full impact of
the changes. After putting on my black dress and looking at myself in the
mirror I got all turned on by the feminine form reflected back. I took
inventory and decided that there were two items that just had to change, I
needed more cleavage and my legs really had to be denuded. The last was
easy. Removing my pantyhose, I sat on the edge of the bathtub, lathered up
my legs and carefully removed all the hair. The second was not so easy
to accomplish but I just had to see what my dress looked like with more
cleavage showing.
After my fifth change of mind I said "to hell with it" and took a pee
while thinking my waist could be thinner and my breasts fuller. All
hesitation vanished as I looked down at a pair of knockers that were more
than a handful. As near as I could tell they were a full B cup, jutting
out little over two and a half inches. Thinking that I could get a little
more bust I squeezed out three or four more drops and the next thing I know
I was a full C cup with a full three inches stretching to the front.
My waist now measured 26 inches and there could be no doubt the torso was a
female. I would have a pretty problem trying to fit this into my three
piece suit Monday morning.
However, the dress now looked stunning on me. Enough cleavage to satisfy
any male onlooker and absolutely smooth legs to make me feel ever so
feminine. Even though my face looked somewhat male and my hands and feet
were a bit too large I felt sure I could pass for a female in public.
These were dangerous thoughts. If I did much more I would not be able to
go to work on Monday. So I enjoyed my alterations to the fullest as I sat
in front of the TV fanaticizing and masturbating.
The next morning I woke up to the phone. It was my boss. He wanted to
know if I could come in to the office for an hour or two to help him revise
the Preston report. I panicked, as I would have to go in this Saturday
morning wearing at most a tee shirt or thin sweater. No one wears heavy
sweaters in Oregon in June. The only thing that popped into my mind was
that I had come down with a bug. He bought off that I was sick with some
help from a tired voice routine. I added that if I didn't feel well by
Monday I would go to the doctor before I showed up for work (Hey doc, how
do I make these mammeries disappear when I wear my three piece suit.)
My boss offered that he would personally clean my wagon if I infected his
staff with whatever ailment I had contacted,-probably from peeing in that
unclean urinal. Relieved and reprieved, I hung up the phone and went to
take a pee.
I should have known better but I was still mentally patting myself on the
back for my great deception when the beginning of a stream registered in
my sleepy head. At the risk of a major hernia I immediately shut off my
faucet. Too late.
Your bones are too large for a petite female form
Your ribs, hands and legs we will downward reform.
Now I had double trouble. First I was looking at hands and feet about two
thirds the size of what was there a few minutes ago. Second, if I didn't
think of something fast to change, I would be in for a second surprise.
"My face needs to be slightly more feminine" flashed across my mind as the
muscles holding the dam gave out to the golden flow. I reluctantly went to
the mirror to assess the damage. My eyebrows were no longer bushy, but
unisex. My mouth was slightly larger revealing a beautiful set of even
female teeth when I smiled. My lips were much fuller which gave me an
extremely female pout. My nose was now pert. There were also some side
effects. My ears were pierced after I moved the somewhat longer hair to
find them. The term 'slightly more feminine' looked like a sex kitten to me
but after a rational reflection I decided it gave me the ultimate unisex
look. It also appears that my beard had completely disappeared. After
about ten minutes I decided that there was no way anyone at work would not
see the changes. I was devastated. What was I to do? In total resignation
I now looked at my two female size seven feet with my toenails still painted
bright red from last night.
Here it was less than twenty four hours since the contract was made, however
it was made. I was everything but a functional female. The doorbell
brought me out of my stupor. I looked out over the driveway and saw my
boss's car. It was show and tell time. He had just phoned so I couldn't
pull the old I am not at home routine.
I yelled down the stairs that I would be down in a moment. In no time at
all I had my nail polish off my hands and my face cleaned up from the
makeup. I convinced myself I looked masculine enough to answer the door
if I wore my big terry cloth bathrobe and slippers hiding my feet. The
terry cloth seemed to fill in where the wager had taken away, except I
didn't need any fill in on my hips or bust.
I opened the door not knowing what to say to my boss. He rushed past me
with an apology for getting me out of my death bed but he was desperate
for my help. He just kept talking as he looked at me, not being aware of
the massive changes to my body. After about an hour and a half and four
cups of coffee each we had the contract problems resolved and he said that
he was going to treat me to lunch. I looked at him rather blankly, like
lunch was not a word in my vocabulary. Finally he said, "Sam, I could
really care less that you like to dress up as a female. You are by far
the best employee I have and I will accept you anyway you care to
present yourself. Now get dressed and let's get something to eat"
I was stunned. He knew I had worn female underclothes. I managed to get
out in my unisex voice "How long have you known?"
"Ever since that day last April when you came back from the washroom with
your slip hanging out from the back of your pants. Remember, I called a
staff meeting and you were asked to man the phones. Well it turns out
about half the staff alreadyknew about this for some time. We all agreed
you were the kindest, most gentle person we knew and it would not be
appropriate to embarrass you. So the whole company, all 15 of us, made a
vow to not let on we aware of anything about your fetish. Will you please
get dressed. I am famished."
My mind was a bog. In went to my room I sat down at the edge of my bed.
What was I going to do?. Then the reality of four cups of coffee hit me.
As I walked to the john I chuckled at my sudden change of plans. In quick
succession I wished for two other things but saved a few drops for another
surprise.
My long wavy hair hung down to my waist as I descended the stairs in my
tight fitting shorts, cleavage-exposing halter-top and sandals. "Well boss,
do you think the other employees will be able to keep their vow?" I said in
my sexy new soprano voice.
What previously was out is now quite in
When you do it for love, it isn't a sin.
I had a lot to do before next Saturday. After all, it takes a lot of
planning to spend $100,000.